Alpha and Omega
by Hyliian
Summary: A possible multi-shot of the Alex from "Consuming Direct Control" and his stint with the Blue Suns mercenary group.
1. Chapter 1

**Note: **_This is the Alex from my main crossover, "Consuming Direct Control." Reading that one is not necessary, but that's the timeline this is set in._

* * *

Alex rarely encountered places as dismal and oppressive as Omega. Mercenary bands roved the area, extorting the merchants and civilians. People are found dead in the streets without so much as an alarm being raised in their name. Every man woman and child would smile to your face and stab you in the back if it would get them notoriety or a sliver of security.

He loved every minute of it.

For once he was free to be himself without attracting attention. Bartenders knew to look the other way if their customers seem suspicious, merchants didn't ask where the credits came from and customers didn't tell, law enforcement was almost nonexistent unless you broke Omega's single rule, and anyone with half a brain could see that Alex Mercer was not someone you wanted to piss off. He was one of the only humans on the asteroid that didn't wear armor, and the _only_ one who didn't need it. People of all species moved aside when he walked by, conversation would slow to a trickle when he was within hearing range and even when he wasn't…

And the best part was no one knew a damn thing about him, and he intended to keep it that way.

But it was boring, and slow, and it took no effort at all to establish the proper level of _Touch Me and Die_ required to go about his business unimpeded. He craved movement, action, blood, violence, _war_. And while there was an abundance of all five of those on Omega, Alex was finding it difficult to sate the rather ravenous hunger for destruction these past few inactive years had bred inside him.

So he did the most logical thing a walking bioweapon could do when faced with this situation.

He stole the skin of one of the drifters in the apartment slums and joined a mercenary group. He could have easily consumed a member of any of the numerous groups present on Omega and simply assumed his place, but Alex wanted to _earn_ something for a change. He wanted the challenge. He wanted people to talk down to him without fear, without knowing who and what he was; he wanted to have to _try_.

With a flick of thought he'd cleaned his new form and made it presentable, eyeing his reflection in a grimy mirror. Unassuming green eyes glared back at him from beneath shaggy blond hair. He was forgettable, utterly unremarkable, if not for the death written across his face and the ever-present lust for carnage in his now-human eyes. He couldn't do much to hide those particular aspects of his personality, and he didn't really care to. They were common enough traits in mercenaries, he supposed, and he'd most likely be wearing a helmet anyway.

He had easily enough credits to have gone to the black markets and purchased the most high-quality arms and armor available, but he didn't. Instead, he wore no armor and retrieved a single heavy pistol his new body had kept in a locker beneath his bed. It would be all he needed to prove himself.

It was strange traveling through the streets of Omega without the customary respect everyone generally afforded him. People didn't step aside—_he_ was expected to do so—and no one so much as glanced in his direction when he slipped through the throng like a ghost.

The Blue Suns' recruiting station was generally packed with young men and women, hopeful humans and the occasional batarian that saw the "private security organization" as free room and board. Alex saw only the potential for violence, and leapt on it.

He kept to the back of the throng of recruits, sticking to the shadows where he knew the recruiters could see him but the recruits could not, head down but green eyes missing nothing, hand light on the grip of the pistol at his hip. He wasn't the only one here not wearing armor, but the very stance he stood in told anyone who knew what to look for that he didn't need it in the first place.

A young man who was also sticking near the back stood out to Alex. He looked fidgety, nervous, as if being in a room full of potential mercs was the most daring thing he had ever done. Alex suspected he would be dead in a week if he was accepted. He couldn't find it in him to mourn the man.

When the crowd had thinned to the more battle-ready recruits, the turian behind the counter finally motioned to Alex, and he slid up through the crowd to stand before him.

"You look mildly competent," the turian stated as if he really couldn't care less, "You here for the guts or the glory?"

"My reasons are my own," Alex informed the merc recruiter in a voice that could have cracked glass. He was aware that all eyes had turned to him, and he silently cursed himself for forgetting that most humans didn't sound like they wanted nothing more than to rip into the nearest living being and consume them. The body he wore didn't have the same deep, low voice that he was used to, but the message had gotten through loud and clear regardless.

_I am not human,_ his voice said. _And I will not hesitate to slaughter everyone in the room. Please provoke me. I dare you._

The turian looked at him closer, leaning a little over the desk. "What's your name, human?"

"Zeus," Alex replied promptly. The body he wore was named Bruce DeMoss, but he wasn't about to start his mercenary career with a name like _Bruce_. And there was no way in hell he was using his real name; not when he'd already earned a reputation in the underground as Alex Mercer, Grade A Psychopath. A few nearby humans snickered, he assumed they were educated and knew about the Greek pantheon of gods, and he pinned the nearest snickerer with his glare. "You find something amusing about that, kid?"

The kid in question looked about the same age as Bruce had been, but Alex probably out-aged everyone in the room since there were no krogan or asari present.

"Yeah. I do," the kid replied, sneering, stepping into his personal space. Alex bristled reflexively, but he held his biomass in check. He'd promised to himself not to use his powers if he could help it, if only to add to the challenge. "You don't _look_ like a Zeus. You look more like a… a _Stacy_, to me."

Alex felt his lip twitch into a smirk. Stacy? Really? "Oh? And what's your name supposed to be? Cassidy?"

The kid sneered again, looking entirely too self-confident for his own good. "Why don't you ask your sister? She was screaming it pretty loud last night," he smirked, getting some under-handed high fives from his snickering buddies.

Everyone in the room jumped when there was the report of a single round being fired, and the kid's head snapped back before he crumpled lifeless to the floor. All eyes turned to Alex, and the heavy pistol still held evenly in a steady grip. No one had seen him pull the weapon, not even the kid he'd shot. Everyone backed up a step, and a few even made noises of protest or disgust and complained about the murder.

Alex lowered the gun and pointed it at the corpse on the ground. "I'm sorry, what did you say?" he asked the body casually. "It sounded like you'd insulted my sister." He flicked green eyes to the nearest crowd. "Anyone _else_ have a smart comment?"

Not surprisingly, no one stepped forward to challenge him. Alex frowned at the corpse splayed out before him, sinking blood into the floor. He'd been willing to let the kid live; after all, he was far from the first person to have the misfortune of being born an idiot, and Alex had come here in disguise to _encourage_ this kind of behavior.

But then he'd insulted Dana, and then he'd been dead. Alex sighed. Really, it was amazing humanity had lived this long if _this_ was the kind of ingrate they were breeding nowadays.

The turian recruiter clicked his talon on the table and pointed at the five or so that had protested the violence. "You, you, you, and _you_. Get out. This is a mercenary company, not C-Sec. If you can't handle a little blood, you're not worth our time." Then he turned curious blue eyes on Alex. "Zeus, was it? Nice shot. No hesitation." The turian stamped something on a datapad and handed it across the table to Alex, who took it. "Welcome to the Blue Suns."

* * *

**A/N: **_I'll probably end up making more chapters for this particular 'Web of Intrigue' entry, just because mercenary Alex sounds like way too much fun to write._


	2. Chapter 2

The first thing Alex noticed about the man handing him an assault rifle and a set of Blue Suns' armor was the scar. It looked like someone had taken a chainsaw to one side of his face and attempted to perform surgery on his jaw with it. It would take serious willpower to survive a wound like that, and Alex decided he would extend the utmost courtesy to the man by not shooting him the face for calling him _Meat_ earlier.

"My name is Zeus," Alex growled back, taking the gun with a little more force than necessary.

"You have to earn a name like that, Meat," the man replied casually, not at all intimidated by the blond haired youth glaring at him. "So you killed some little twerp who badmouthed your sister. That doesn't scream _king of the gods_ to me, kid."

Alex smirked. He was probably older than everyone in the room; being called _kid_ wasn't something he was used to. "Then by your reasoning, I should be calling you Scarface."

'Scarface' smirked back, the scar stretching awkwardly as he did so. "Name's Ethan, kid. No fancy title."

Alex pulled on the armor and frowned at it. He'd take it off when he found somewhere private and change it into biomass armor, so it'd be less constricting.

"What's the matter, Meat? Too heavy for you?" Ethan grunted as he pulled another rifle off the stack to hand to the next recruit in line.

"Just because you have the muscle mass of a six year old girl doesn't mean everyone else does, Scarface." Alex slung the rifle over his shoulder and clipped Bruce's pistol to his hip. He heard Ethan snort and smirked. He hadn't had the chance to just… _banter_ like this since his days in Manhattan. "This armor is crap. People actually expect you to _fight_ in this shit?"

Ethan glanced at him as he handed the fidgeting kid from the recruiting room a pile of armor, which he promptly collapsed under the weight of. "Santiago and Massani don't waste creds on kids that'll be dead in a week. Prove that you're a tough SOB to kill, and they'll get you some real armor."

Alex turned his head to look at the kid struggling back to his feet and rolled his eyes, grabbing the armor and holding it one arm as the dark-haired youth surged back up, looking around nervously.

_Yeah, he'll be dead in a day._ Alex looked him over as he handed the armor back to him, watching the kid stagger a bit under the weight of it. He doubted the kid would even be able to _wear_ armor like that, nonetheless _fight_ in it. "This might be the wrong line of work for you," Alex pointed out as the kid wheezed out a breath when he shoved the armor onto a nearby table.

The dark-haired boy couldn't be a day over seventeen, and glared at Alex over the pile of armor he'd collapsed over to catch his breath. The kid made some angry-looking hand gestures that triggered a spike of pain behind his eyes as a memory offered up a name for it. _Sign language?_ Alex thought incredulously, raising both brows.

The kid was _mute?_

Alex watched with amusement as the kid snarled at him and began pulling on the armor as if proving he could do it. "What's your name, kid?"

The boy looked up, confused at the change in tone. He reached into the pocket of his jacket and held out a card with his picture and his name on it. His license? Alex glanced down.

_James._ Alex flicked the card back at him and watched him fumble to catch it before looking at Ethan. "All right Scarface. What's next?"

Ethan grunted as he handed the last recruit his gear and wiped his hands on the armor of his leggings. "What's _next_ is combat training. Gotta weed out the bastards who can't shoot straight and figure out which of you is worth keeping." He looked disapprovingly at James, who had just finished pulling on the armor and was holding his helmet in both hands. "So pick a partner, Meat, and get your ass to HQ."

* * *

Alex blinked as one of the recruits flinched when the needle bit his skin. Ethan had sent them all over here after they'd worn themselves out in the shooting range to get tattooed. Apparently most of the mercs liked having the Blue Suns logo somewhere on their person, and Alex was curious. He'd never gotten a tattoo before, and he figured it would be interesting to see if the ink stayed with him when he shifted forms.

James shifted uneasily beside him, looking nervous. The kid had latched onto him after they'd left the range, and Alex just pretended he wasn't there. He didn't really mind that the kid was following him around since he was quiet and didn't touch him. If he'd been a chatterbox, or able to speak at all for that matter, Alex might have thrown him out the nearest airlock.

"Where you getting yours?" Alex casually asked the jumpy young man, who paused before pointing to the underside of his forearm. Alex raised his brows. Not the most comfortable place to get a tattoo; kid must be trying to prove he could take it. James made a questioning motion and Alex shrugged, pointing at his left shoulder.

On the off-chance the tattoo was actually permanent, he wanted it somewhere he could cover it up but show off if he needed to. It wouldn't do for Alex Mercer to walk around with the Blue Suns icon stamped on his forehead, after all.

When it was his turn, Alex watched the recruit before him rubbing at his back as he walked off before sitting and pulling off the breastplate of his armor and rolling up the sleeve of the shirt he wore underneat. He wasn't sure what to expect when the needle touched his skin, but it was rather anticlimactic. He literally didn't even feel it, so he just glanced around the room waiting for it to be over.

When he stood, he craned his neck to look at the blue logo covering his left shoulder, and smirked before heading for the quarters Ethan had pointed out on their way over. James grabbed his arm as he walked by and stared at him pleadingly, and Alex bristled with the gut reaction of snapping the boy's arm off at the elbow to remove the unwanted contact. He settled for a withering glare that had James shrinking back. He wanted to get into a room and change this damn armor into his biomass. It was constricting, and he felt like a robot trying to walk around in it.

'_Wait. I'll get lost,'_ James signed frantically, looking agitated and nervous. Alex sighed and glared at the young man. He wasn't sure which of the myriads of personalities in his head could read sign language, but it was times like this he wished he could just play dumb and walk away.

"I'm not your damn babysitter," Alex bit out, gesturing at the waiting man and the chair. "Find someone else to hold your hand for you."

James' stare hardened into something almost impressive before he pointed at Alex and then at the ground. Alex cocked a brow, raking his green eyes over the kid. Either James had a death wish, or he had _balls_. Or he might just be an idiot. Alex frowned.

"Do you _want_ me to kill you?"

James hesitated, looked at the chair and then at Alex again. Then he flicked his eyes imperceptibly to the doorway where a few other recruits were lounging around. They had been the first to get their tattoos in various unsavory places, and really had no reason to be sticking around. Alex glanced over at them and saw them eyeing him and James as if wondering how much trouble they'd get in for starting a fight.

'_They've been following me,'_ James signed once Alex turned back to him. Alex sighed and looked back at the thugs by the door. He didn't have time for this shit. The armor was starting to chafe in places it really shouldn't be chafing, and he would rather be gargling broken glass than playing babysitter to some kid.

Alex sent a significant look to James and pushed him towards the chair as he headed for the door. The thugs moved to block his path and Alex tensed, eyes checking them for concealed weapons and not finding any.

"Get out of my way," Alex warned them, flexing his fingers. Idly, he recognized a few of them as the cronies of the idiot who'd insulted Dana. He'd pay special attention to those two.

"Yeah? Why don't you and your boyfriend there make us," the 'leader' snapped back, irritated. He was one the cronies. Alex decided he would break his neck and use him as a meat shield against the others.

Alex shrugged amiably. "All right."

He grabbed the leader by the collar of his armor and jerked him forward, putting his free hand on top of the man's head and twisting his wrist. The audible _crack_ was enough for everyone in the room to turn and stare as Alex threw the dead idiot into his nearest friend with enough force to cave in the unfortunate recruit's chest, sending them to the ground. With those two out of the way, Alex turned to the other three and waited. Eventually, they got over their shock and one of them came in swinging. Alex _tsk_ed.

Such poor form. Alex caught the punch in one hand and smirked at the recruit's surprise. He twisted and pulled the man's arm around his back, snapping it, and as the guy yelled out in pain Alex kicked him in the back, sending him flying across the room and denting the wall on the other side. He felt the other two idiots grab his arms as they tried to restrain him, and Alex had to actively fight off the urge to just let his tendrils crawl from his skin and consume them. They were _right there_, after all, but he figured blowing his cover this early would be a Bad Idea. So he settled for wrenching his left arm free as if the man holding him had only the strength of a two year old and elbowing the guy in the face. The sound of a breaking nose and shattered skull as the man gurgled and fell to the ground was enough to make the second guy let go and back up a step.

Alex rolled his eyes at the obvious terror on the guy's face as he took him by the neck and pinned him to the wall, glaring down at him. "You really should have gotten out of my way."

He kneed the idiot with enough force to ensure that his family name would die with him before stepping back while the man crumpled to the ground, whimpering. Alex rolled his neck and shook out his fingers, looking at the wide-eyed audience watching him. The idiot that dented the wall might live with treatment, and the man hunched in on himself on the ground probably _wished_ he was dead, but the other three were down for the count.

Alex glanced up and caught James staring at him with his mouth open. His eyes would probably fall out of his head if they got any wider. Alex shrugged at him and headed for the barracks. He wanted to get this damn armor off and replace it with his own version. He had been sloppy with those recruits; the armor slowed down his reflexes and he'd overestimated his ability to maneuver in it.

James could find his own way back.

* * *

**A/N: **_Alex really can't go twenty four hours without killing someone, can he? Ethan and James are OCs, just side characters to give everything a little depth, but Ethan is mentioned briefly in Ch. 37 of CDC.  
_


	3. Chapter 3

Alex cursed and ducked behind some cover as the Alliance marines opened fire on them, grabbing James' arm and pulling him down when he didn't react fast enough. Damn kid would get his head blown off if Alex didn't keep an eye on him.

_It'll be an easy job,_ _he'd said. It's just a routine pickup, he'd said. Well guess what, Scarface? It's NOT._

Alex growled and waited for a break in fire before jerking up and lining up a shot with his pistol at the top of one of their heads just barely visible above the lip of the wall they were behind. The marine's shields took the hit, but it was enough to make the man jerk in surprise and duck down lower. If he had been alone, Alex would have just walked over to their cover and beaten their faces in. But as it was, a few of his fellow recruits were still alive, and they weren't quite injured enough to pass off seeing him take a bunch of assault rounds to the chest as a hallucination.

"Where the hell is Ethan?" Alex yelled into his mic, hearing only panicked voices on the other end. Apparently Scarface's group had found trouble as well. Served him right.

His eyes widened as a small spherical object bounced over their cover and headed for them. Hundreds of consumed marines and soldiers lurched to the forefront of his consciousness and he reacted almost without thought. He grabbed the grenade in mid-air and threw it back over the cover within the span of a single heartbeat.

One full second later the grenade detonated and he heard the screaming of some unfortunate marine caught in the blast. James was staring at him wide-eyed and Alex just scowled at him.

He'd given up trying to hide his strength and his speed considering almost everyone had either seen or heard about his disagreement with those five thugs, but there were some things that simply weren't human. Catching a grenade in the air and returning it to sender was one of them.

"_Meat, did you retrieve the cargo?" _Ethan's voice crackled over the com, and Alex growled.

"We're pinned down by a dozen damn Alliance marines, Scarface. So no. No we have _not_ retrieved the cargo."

To punctuate his statement, someone—he wasn't sure who—fired a shotgun and one of the recruits collapsed as his shields failed. _Shitty gear._

"_Who was that?"_ Ethan demanded as he barked orders to his own squad.

"Hell if I know," Alex admitted, looking across the room to the unmoving recruit. "You know everyone looks the same with those damn helmets on."

James tapped his arm and signed _'Andrew.'_

Alex rolled his eyes. "James says it was some kid named Andrew."

Ethan swore. _"Dammit. Hold your position; we're on our way."_

"Take your time," Alex replied in a sweet voice. "Not like we're being _shot at_ or anything, Scarface." Alex shut the com off as he popped out of cover and emptied his clip into one of the marines that didn't get to cover in time. Six shots took out the shield, two clipped him, and the ninth buried itself in the center of his helmet and the man didn't get up again.

It would be _so_ much easier if he could just form his blade and jump into their cover like a terrier among rats, but that would probably just get him shot at from his _own_ men and he didn't feel like killing them all and making up an excuse to Ethan. The marines took exception to him killing their friend and opened fire on him, two shots managing to clip him as he ducked down. His shields had failed a while ago, before he'd remembered he couldn't just shrug off mortal wounds like he usually did, but he didn't let on that he'd been hit. No one was close enough to see him but James, and Alex was the only one in the whole outfit who knew what the hell James was saying when the kid tried to communicate.

One of the other recruits tried to mimic him and got gunned down for his trouble, and Alex just sighed irritably. At this rate, everyone would be dead except him and James. And while that was ideal, it would be hard to explain to Ethan.

"For the love of… keep your heads down!" Alex yelled at the few Blue Suns recruits that were still conscious. He growled to himself as he lowered his voice. "Am I the _only_ one here with any damn combat experience?"

James made a face and chambered a round in his SMG before popping around the side of their cover and peppering the marines with the spray, managing to injure three of them before the heat sink popped out. When he ducked back around cover he pulled up his omni-tool and began to fiddle with it.

Ten seconds later and the marines behind cover yelled in alarm as a combat drone appeared in front of them and began zapping them with a taser. The marines that left cover in an attempt to get away from the drone were downed quickly by James' SMG and Alex's assault rifle until the screaming stopped and everyone fell silent.

Alex motioned for the others to stay down as he slowly stood and left cover, approaching the low wall the marines had hid behind. He peered over the edge and saw only a bunch of corpses. "Clear!" he yelled back, and the recruits stood shakily as they approached.

Alex stepped away from the wall and ran armored fingers through his hair as he sighed. Two kids down. Not too bad, he supposed, considering they were all about as good with a gun as Dana would have been.

No, that's doing Dana a disservice. Even _she_ could have handled the fight better.

"You," Alex pointed at one of the recruits, who jumped. "Go find the weapon crates Ethan wants." The recruit snapped a salute—Alex had to stifle a snort—and all but sprinted into the next room to find the cargo. Alex turned to James, who was trying to work the stiffness out of his legs from crouching so long. "Why didn't you tell me you were an Engineer?"

James just stared at him. _'You didn't ask.'_

Alex kept his eyes locked on him until the younger man backed off, looking away awkwardly. "Don't be a smart ass." Alex kicked one of the dead marines. "Any ideas what these idiots were doing here?"

"Someone must have tipped them off," one of the recruits spoke up, voice altered by his ridiculous Blue Suns helmet. Alex would rather take a sniper round to the head than wear one.

Alex put a hand to his chin in thought, staring at the nervous recruit, who shifted feet. "No way. Really? I _never_ would have considered that." Alex rolled his eyes and waved at the dead marines. "Search them. Maybe they like to keep records, and we can always use the guns."

"S-sir?" the nervous one stammered in shock. "But… they're _dead_, sir. You want us to search their _bodies?_"

Alex slowly raised a brow. "Yes. They're _dead_. They certainly won't be needing their guns where they're going, will they?"

"It just seems so disrespectful, sir."

"Five minutes ago they were trying to kill you. How wasn't _that_ disrespectful?" Alex folded his arms. "And don't call me sir."

The nervous one got smacked in the head by one of his friends and they headed to search the bodies. The recruit from earlier poked his head out of the door.

"Zeus!" he called, and Alex looked his way. "I found the crates, but they're empty. Looks like the Alliance cleared this place out before they set up."

Alex sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. He pressed two fingers to the earpiece in his ear. "Hey Scarface. We got a problem."


End file.
